


Sometimes Things Don't Go The Way You Plan

by Resmiranda



Series: Sometimes [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Awkwardness, Clueless Eren, Denial, I don't know... whatever else is in Sometimes but through Levi's eyes, Levi swears up a storm, Levi's POV, Literary Editor!Levi, M/M, Masturbation, Random humor, Sometimes Things Turn Out For The Best aside
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 02:19:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resmiranda/pseuds/Resmiranda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi has liked Eren since the first day he met him (which happened to consist of Eren threatening him with a knife). Over the course of a year and a half, decisions are made, feelings grow, and by the end, Eren finally seems to be on the same page as him. Levi never thought he'd be dealing with such feelings again (he really didn't want to), but things don't always go the way you think they will. He finally makes a decision, one that may alter the course of his life.</p><p>An aside for <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1056777"> Sometimes Things Turn Out For The Best </a> from Levi's POV. Can be read as a standalone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes Things Don't Go The Way You Plan

**Author's Note:**

> HALT! PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU GO ANY FARTHER:
> 
> This is an aside for the fic [ Sometimes Things Turn Out For The Best. ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1056777)
> 
> If you have not read STTOFTB, I HIGHLY encourage you to before reading this. I tried to make it so this *could* be read without reading that first, but this is meant to be an aside to that story and not the other way around. I cannot promise everything here will make perfect sense if you make the decision to read this before you read that. In the end, it's your call, but please don't complain if things aren't explored as fully as you'd like. This aside is meant to give meaning to Chapter 8 of STTOFTB, which will also be from Levi's POV.
> 
> To those who are already reading STTOFTB: If you decided to subscribe to the series, or just haunt the update feed, you get a sneak peek of sorts at this! Otherwise, you will likely find yourself here after I post the link in Chapter 8, which will be coming sometime in the sort of near future... 
> 
> Gosh, you have no idea how nervous I am about posting this. I REALLY hope it doesn't disappoint. I tried to approach Levi's perspective from a slightly different stylistic approach than I write Eren from. Hopefully it works for you guys... sorry if it doesn't. I should probably shut up now. ^_^;;

It had happened so many times now. A glance, a smile, a phrase. Small things. Unimportant things. Forgettable things.

They all gave me that feeling.

It was a feeling I had not wanted to name up to this point, though I knew I could, if only I would let myself think about it. As much as I hated to admit it, it had always been there, from the very first time I saw him. I could remember it so clearly—the loss of control.

 

I was always in control.

It wasn’t something I was born with; I had learned it. Looking at me now, I was, in every way, a respectable person. Well, maybe not in _every_ sense of the word, but my life was still pretty damn respectable. Very few knew of my past. The years of living on the streets that had ingrained control in my body, to the point that there was no other way of being for me anymore. It wasn’t something I consciously thought about, it was not questionable; it was a fact. Even when I “let myself go,” it was because I consciously made the choice to do so. Every action, every reaction, every twitch of muscle or puff of breath. I was conscious of them all.

_So why am I offering my hand to some brat?_

True, most people would extend a hand in greeting upon meeting someone new in this culture. I was not most people.

First of all, I had seen a lot of shit on the streets, some of it literal. I knew where people put their hands, and it didn’t matter how nice, or rich, or fucking _proper_ they seemed. People who bought things in alleyways were not the kind of people you wanted touching you. Pretty soon you realized that you can’t tell the difference between the scum of the earth and the truly pure by looks alone. It bred distrust in me; made me feel unclean to the point my skin crawled. It was the reason I was so meticulous about sanitization now. It was why I was always cautious. I hated offering my hand in greeting, no matter what social protocol may call for. I was sometimes forced to for work. I never did it when it was a personal encounter.

And that was why I was scared right now.

Yes, I was scared, though no one would ever know from looking at me. My face was schooled in a carefully crafted mask of indifference. I didn’t even think about it anymore. In truth, I wasn’t sure there was even a remnant of the more expressive person I used to be below it anymore. I had worn it so long it had fused, becoming a part of me.

The second reason it did not make a lot of sense for me to be offering my hand was the phrase that had my body moving without permission like some fucking schoolgirl talking to her crush for the first time. As he repeated it, I took my hand back.

“I said who _the fuck_ are you?” He practically shouted at me from across the small apartment we were standing in. “How did you get in?” Green eyes shone at me with fiery determination.

_It’s those fucking eyes…_

Before I knew what I was doing I had taken another step forward, causing another spike of panic to course through me. This had to stop. I took a slow breath in so he wouldn’t notice it happening. I resolved my mind. I took back control.

Pretty-Eyes started groping behind him and suddenly there was a knife in his hand. I appraised him quickly. Strong hands; steady hands, but they lacked experience.

Still, the kid was dangerous; but not because of any weapon he might wield. No, that made me smile a little. He actually thought he could hurt me with that. _Fucking precious._

He was dangerous because he had made me slip. It was true that I had no real need of being as paranoid as I was anymore, but old habits died hard, and losing control was frightening. I would have to be more careful around him from now on so it didn’t happen again.

Slowly, I moved my hand to reach into my back pocket. Green-Eyes tensed, probably thinking I was going for a weapon of my own. Instead I dug out a small key, bringing it to dangle on its ring in front of me on the tip of my forefinger.

“I used the key.” A myriad of emotions flickered across those bright orbs of his. First confusion, then a mix that flashed by in an instant before landing on worry. The undercurrent of anger never left for an instant, though.

“Where did you get that,” he growled, his voice dangerously low.

Behind me, I heard the distinct sounds of someone working the door open. I glanced behind to make sure it was who I thought it was, being careful to keep the brat in my peripheral vision. As soon as I saw the blonde hair, I turned my gaze back forward.

"Oh, Eren!" Armin spoke with an air of light happiness, but that rapidly changed as he took in the situation. "Why are you holding a knife?"

_Eren, huh?_

"Apparently, he wasn't expecting me to let myself in," I supplied.

Armin gave some sort of squeak. I hoped he wouldn't make a habit of that, it was fucking annoying.

"Ah, I'm so sorry, Eren! I forgot to tell you I had a key made for him so he could just let himself in. Eren, this is Levi, my editor."

I watched as the brat, _Eren_ , processed this information. Eyes widened and flicked from me to Armin and back again. I could already hear his next words.

" _You're_ Levi?" I did not know what the kid was expecting, but it apparently was not what he got. Wouldn't be the first time.

"Nice to meet you, brat." I could see his eyes darken at the last word.

It bothered me how much I liked that look on him. The kid did something to me. Stirred something that I had felt before, but wasn't sure I wanted to feel again. This feeling was dangerous.

Yes, a dangerous brat indeed. 

 

That was the first time. Sometimes I wondered what the hell I was thinking. Why I let myself stay after knowing what the brat could do to me. Why I didn't insist Armin and I meet at the office instead of his damn apartment all the time. Why I didn't just tell him to make sure his shitty roommate wasn't home when I was there. Any number of things. 

Instead, I did nothing. I went with our original plan of working on Armin's books in the place he did most of his work so he wouldn't have to lug around all the journals and storyboards he had carefully laid out around his room with him. It was actually quite practical. But had I known then that the feeling I had that first day wouldn't go away—that I wouldn't be able to bury it the way I hoped—would I have made the same choice?

For some reason, the question made me think back to the first time he'd smiled at me. Really smiled.

Ironically enough, it was the first time I met his boyfriend.

 

When I came over that evening to talk to Armin about the proposition he had for his next book, I had the displeasure being greeted by the sight of Eren all cuddled up next to some guy with the most ridiculous hairstyle I had ever seen. It was a disgrace to people with hair everywhere. Just the sight of it had my fingers itching to grab a hold of an electric razor.

_I already don't like the shit. Because of his fucked up hair. Not because Eren's using him as a pillow. It's definitely that fucking hair._

I unintentionally slammed the door shut, startling the two occupants of the couch. When Eren registered who I was, he greeted me.

"Hey, Levi." Kid didn't even look me in the eyes. He was probably too distracted by the _thing_ he was trying to extract himself from.

"Brat." I said shortly, already heading towards the stairs, not in the mood to deal with him and his boy toy.

"Hey, what was that for?" An unfamiliar voice called after me. I ignored it. "Is that…?" I could tell he was now talking to Eren.

"Yeah, that's Armin's editor." Eren responded softly before trying to grab my attention, even though I already had one foot on the first stair. "Hey, Levi, wait up!" I paused at that voice. I didn't want to, but I did.

"What, brat?" I turned my attention towards the couch. The kid with the awful hair looked pissed.

"I just wanted to introduce you to… my boyfriend, Jean." He seemed to say the last part in a rush.

_Boyfriend, huh?_

The word left a bad taste in my mouth. "Jean," he turned his eyes back to his boyfriend, "this is Armin's editor, Levi."

 His face was every bit as ugly as I expected it to be. It was too long. He nodded his greeting to me. I didn’t bother returning it. “Anything else, brat?”

Eren shook his head, giving me a timid smile. _Shit, it’s hard to be mad at him when he looks like that._ I held back a sigh and turned to climb the stairs.

An hour later, Armin and I were finally done with our meeting. This one had gone pretty smoothly, and I was satisfied with the agreements we’d come to. Arlert had a lot of talent. He looked like he’d be a pushover, but he really wasn’t, at least when it came to his work. Still, I knew what I was doing and had far more patience than most souls could conceive of. If someone wanted to dispute one of my changes, there had better be a really fucking good reason for it. Armin was surprisingly good at finding those. It was kind of refreshing, having an author that was actually semi-competent at arguing on behalf of his own work. I was so pleased that it wasn’t until I was headed downstairs again that I remembered what lay in wait for me at the bottom.

I was lucky, however. The horse-face seemed to have left, seeing as Eren was now curled up on the couch by himself. He was just standing up from his position when he noticed me.

“How’d it go?” he asked, walking over to me.

“Well,” I told him truthfully. “Where did…” Shit, I’d forgotten his name. “your bratty friend go?”

Eren looked amused. “Jean? He left not long after you came.”

Good. That would make what I was about to say far less awkward.

"Your boyfriend looks like a horse," I told him.

That was it. That was all I said and suddenly the brat was cracking this huge-ass smile that lit up his whole fucking face. Those blue-green orbs of his came to life, sparkling as laughter, full and unfiltered, bubbled out of him.

I honestly had no clue what about the words I had spoken made him lose his shit. I was just speaking the truth. What I did know, however was that I did not want him to stop. My heart stuttered. His laughter was like music and he was looking at me with this delight in his eyes that made an unfamiliar warmth spread inside me.

And then there was that smile.

The brat was calming down, but still beaming at me, his teeth straight and white. I'd seen the kid smile before. I'd seen him laugh before, too. But not for me. Not like this. I didn't want him to stop.

He was still panting for breath when he said, "Sorry; it's just…” He chuckled a little more, "I think that about him all the time! Not that I'd ever tell him that. Please don't tell him that," he added, some of the mirth leaving his face for a second to get the seriousness of his plea across before it sprang back to full intensity. "I've always thought he resembles a horse—but in a good way, you know? A very handsome horse." He laughed again. "I can't believe you thought the same thing."

I raised an eyebrow at that, genuinely irritated. "Did I say I thought he was handsome, brat? I said he looks like a horse. I don't know where you come from, but where I'm from that's not a complement."

Eren didn't let my surly tone affect him, and I was secretly glad.

"Levi, you'd better be careful or your face will stick that way." He took a step forward and actually looked like he might poke the crease between my eyes for a moment before he registered the death glare I was giving him and let his hand fall to his side. 

I was suddenly consumed by the maddening urge to kiss him, but I didn't. And it wasn't because I kept trying to pretend these feelings the kid stirred in me weren't there half the time or because he was so much younger. I truly didn't care about those things in that moment. But there were still some lines I wouldn't cross. I didn't kiss Eren then because I couldn't. The fucking kid wasn't mine to kiss. The look he was giving me was not the look he gave the shitstain he called his boyfriend earlier. My chest clenched again, a much less pleasant feeling washing over me. I knew what it was, but I wouldn't name it. Wouldn't admit what I felt. I would ignore it like I always did. It would go away. I would make it. I had always been able to compartmentalize my feelings in the past; I would do so now. I would forget and leave the kid to his ass of a significant other.

 

Only at the time I thought that, I forgot one thing.

Eren Yeager was the exception to my every rule.

 

" _Mmmm_." I bit my lip, muffling my noise of pleasure even though there was really no need for it. I was in my house, alone. Still as I worked a hand over my slicked shaft I held the sounds that wanted to pour from my lips back, as though being quieter would lessen my guilt over touching myself to— _No_. I would not think that yet. Did not want to think it. What I wanted to think was…

 _Eren looking up at me with those green orbs lidded by pleasure, his cheeks flushed. Another thrust in. "Nnnngh!" he cries as I groan again, the heat encompassing me once more._ I squeeze my erection a little firmer, punctuating the fantasy. _He's tight. So fucking tight. I want more, need more. As much as I love to watch him squirm and beg, I can't tease him any longer, I quicken my pace._ My hand quickens, sliding my foreskin back on each pass. " _Shit._ " I gasp, my breath coming in hard pants. I shouldn't be doing this. How the hell did I lose so much control that I was allowing myself to do this? I was pleasuring myself to the thought of a brat nearly— _No!_ I shut off the thought again.

 _"Levi!" Eren's voice rings out. I can't get any harder, but my cock still twitches inside him. I want to hear him cry my name again, so I keep working my hips at that angle. "Ah, ah! L-Levi! Ah," his voice cracks as his pitch slides up to a note he can't reach._ "Eren," I whisper in return. The guilt in my gut intensifies with the heat pooling just a few inches down. I'm close.

 _I shift my weight to one arm so I can reach to stroke him with the other. "L-Levi, nngh, ah," he pants struggling to tell me. "I'm, ah, I'm going…" His young body writhes underneath me, his eyes shut tight as he tries to delay the inevitable. "Levi!" A final loud shout of my name has his whole body tensing, thick ribbons of white coming to paint his chest, and the building tension in my own body finally reaches its breaking point._ " _Fuck_ ," I gave an elongated groan as my orgasm hit. It was strong, it was good. I lazily thrust into my hand, milking everything there was to offer out, trying to push back the shame that was swelling in my chest at what I had just done…

I had jerked myself to the thought of a brat nearly two decades my junior who was already taken.

I felt pathetic.

 

Instead of learning my lesson, however, it got worse. I sunk to new lows.

 

That time, for once, I had intended to do something. Though my body always seemed to have a mind of its own anytime I was around Eren, this time was very deliberate—not that I’d ever admit it.

It was stupid. Childish. I was more of a brat than those kids, but as I poured myself another cup of coffee and heard that horse’s voice…

“His birthday?” he was saying to Armin in response to a question of if he had anything planned. “Nah, I haven’t really thought about it. It’s not that big of a deal anymore, right? I’ll take him out to dinner or something and then pound his ass good. That’s always a good gift.” He let out a laugh and I could feel Armin’s embarrassment without even turning around, but those things paled in comparison to the blood rushing in my ears and the slow burn of anger in my gut. I turned and marched forward, seemingly on a path to plant myself next to Armin, but as I passed the ass, I just “happened” to bump into him, spilling my piping hot mug of fresh coffee all over his side and front.

“Fuck!” he yelped. Probably a mix of surprise and pain. I shook my own hand out to try and cool the areas the scalding liquid had sloshed on. It was worth it.

“You asshole!” he turned on me, trying to use his greater height to intimidate me. I honestly didn’t have a problem with my height. What pissed me off was that people _thought_ they could use it to get under my skin. They just assumed calling me “midget” or “shortie” would get me pissed. And I guess it did, but not for the reasons people always assumed. “What the fuck man?! You did that on purpose!”

I kept my face and voice level. “Of course I didn’t. Why would I waste a mug of perfectly good coffee? It got on me, too, you know,” I reasoned with him.

He wasn’t having any of it. “Like hell you didn’t! Is this because of what I fucking said?” he exclaimed. Kid was sharper than I’d been giving him credit. “You don’t think I see the way you look at Eren? And you want me to believe that you run into me “on accident” right after I say something about shoving it up his ass?!” My hands twitched, but I couldn’t clench them, couldn’t punch him. I’d give myself away—prove him right.

“Clearly you are going to believe whatever you want, but it was an accident.” I said evenly.

“Jean—” Armin had gone to him with paper towels, trying to cut in and mediate, but Jean wouldn’t have that either.

“No, Armin! That fucking gnome dumped his coffee on me _on purpose_ , so don’t tell me to calm down. I’ve tried to put up with him and his asshole behavior, but I’ve had enough!” he shouted, ignoring the offered napkins completely.

“What’s going on?”

The alarmed projection of Eren’s voice had all of us freezing. Eren looked between the three of us, his eyes settling on mine for a long moment before resting on Jean. We all said nothing as he trotted down the stairs and looked over his boyfriend. He clasped his hand and tugged gently. “Come on,” he said.

“But—” Jean started.

“You can tell me after we get you out of that t-shirt,” he told him as he continued to pull him up the steps. My stomach churned. _That_ had certainly not been my goal. Maybe there was something to that phrase “karma’s a bitch” after all.

I turned back around and marched over the sink to rinse off and sooth the reddened skin of my hand. Fortunately I had rolled my sleeves up today, so nothing got on my clothing. Coffee stains were a bitch, too. As I ran the water and rinsed out my mug, I heard Armin approaching behind me. For a moment he just stood there, so I let him be. He’d speak when he was ready.

“Levi…” his hesitance was obvious, and I knew what he was about to ask. “Was that… really an accident?”

I wasn’t really sure what to tell him, and as it turned out, I’d never have to think about it, because at that exact moment yelling erupted from upstairs, distracting both of us. Everything was muffled, but it was still incredibly obvious they were having a fight over what had just happened, and it was not going well. I had enough presence of mind to turn off the faucet, which drew Armin’s attention. It was time to get things back on track.

“Ignore them,” I said. “You can go get your things and we can go elsewhere, if you want, but you absolutely have to decide where you’re going with the second half of the novel by the end of today. I need something solid or this may end up going nowhere. You’re too talented for that, so get moving.”

He glanced towards the stairway with trepidation, but nodded anyway, even though I could already see him dragging his feet without moving an inch.

Then the voices weren’t muffled anymore.

“Don’t you dare show your horse-face here again!” Eren raged as Jean stomped down the stairs.

“As if I would!” Jean roared back. He was carrying a duffle bag over his shoulder. “I’m sick of this! I’m sick of _you!_ ”

My eyes were glued to Eren, who I could now see halfway down the staircase. He opened his mouth to speak, his face twisted with emotion, but Jean’s hand was already on the door handle, and whatever words Eren had seemed to stick in his throat.

The door slammed shut after him.

Never mind what I said about karma.

Slowly, Eren sank down on the stairwell. My heart squeezed painfully, and I looked away. I could not stand the sight of the silent rivulets pouring from his eyes.

“Why don’t we reschedule for tomorrow, Armin,” I said softly.

Armin nodded numbly, not even turning to look at me, already walking toward his best friend. I excused myself without making a sound or looking back.

I felt a little guilty over more or less being the reason for their breakup. It pained me to see Eren heartbroken. But whatever guilt I felt over that, it was not enough to be sorry. That guy was an asshole.

_And if he's going to date an asshole, it's going to be me._

_Shit_. I really needed to stop having thoughts like that. I didn't like how possessive I was over someone who wasn't mine; who would never be mine.

 

No matter how many times I told myself, though, I couldn’t stop myself from teasing Eren—the quips, the sly looks. Maybe I was crazy, but I swear I caught the brat staring at my ass on more than one occasion. The more time passed without that tumor hanging off him, the more pronounced the looks became until I was almost certain this wasn’t a one-sided interest. Almost. I still wasn’t going to do anything. Though I enjoyed the times Armin fucked up and I got to spend some time with Eren, I couldn’t use my work time to just sit around and flirt with a brat. It wasn’t professional, and aside from the embarrassing incident at last year’s Gala (which, again, was a direct result of that shitty brat), I acted in accordance with my position. I took pride in what I did, and I didn’t plan on letting Eren compromise my work further than he already had.

 

But that didn’t stop me from indulging in dubious behavior while _off_ the clock.

 

“Hanji,” I slurred. She had brought out a bottle of whiskey an hour ago, and I was _just_ frustrated enough to not complain as she kept setting glasses before me. I tossed the first three of them back, not bothering to appreciate them at all. I was going slower now, but drunk was drunk, and I was definitely not using my best judgment anymore. I chose to let myself go because I trusted her. She was obnoxious, loud, and weird as fuck, but she had somehow become my friend all the same—a close one at that. She was another integral figure in pulling myself out of the life of a thug. She gave me a job at her shitty bar so I could work my way through college and she learned very quickly what my standards of “clean” were. Even after I left, she still made sure everything was kept to my standards. That was the kind of friend she was. I wouldn’t trust a single other barkeep enough to get this drunk off my ass. She wouldn’t cut corners even if I was severely inebriated. “His fucking _eyes_ , Hanji.” Some distant part of me realized I should shut the fuck up. Instead I told that voice to shut the fuck up and continued letting out all the pent up thoughts and feelings I’d kept to myself for far too long. It felt too good to finally share them with someone. “They’re… this…” damn, it was hard to think, “this weird fucking color! I don’t know how to explain it. They’re green, but sometimes they look bluer. In certain light they’re almost yellow… What the fuck do you call that?” My voice was demanding, and I thought she might be about to answer me, but I wasn’t done. She didn’t get it yet. “They’re _fucking gorgeous_ , Hanji. Shit. He’s _nineteen_ years younger than me. And a moron. And he had this shitty boyfriend that I spilled coffee all over because he was being a dick and then they broke up. What the fuck is wrong with me? This brat has made me lose my shit from the first fucking time I saw him! Shit!” I had run out of the small amount of eloquence I possessed while speaking a couple of drinks ago. “The kid makes me so fucking constipated,” I griped.  Hanji chuckled. I took another swig.

“So, basically, you like him,” Hanji summarized my drunken ramblings.

“Fuck no!” I barked, letting another gulp paint an enjoyable burn down my throat. I paused for a long moment and huffed a breath. “Maybe,” I muttered in concession. I stared down into what was left of my drink. It was the first time I’d admitted that properly to anybody, even myself, despite the number of times I’d jacked off to the kid. I went through the actions while trying to keep myself from thinking what they meant. No matter what other thoughts I had, I’d never gone so far as to think ‘ _I like him.’_ Fuck, it made me feel depressed. _What bullshit_.

“I don’t think I’ve ever quite seen you like this before, Levi!” Hanji mused. It was afterhours, and she was a little tipsy herself, though not nearly as far-gone as I was. “This is fascinating! Hold on while I get my notebook.” She turned to presumably search for her journal, but I was quick to halt her.

“Don’t you dare, Shit Glasses!” I lowered my voice menacingly. “If you write one word of this down, I will burn every scrap of paper you own.” Hanji stopped, because she knew that, unlike when most people made them, my threats weren’t empty. “I’m not one of your fucking test subjects.”

“ _Participants_ , Levi,” Hanji corrected.

“Whatever,” I snapped, not in the mood for her jargon. “Just don’t start talking about me like I’m a fucking object.” Hanji gave me a soft look, something akin to remorse in her eyes.

“This kid has really got you messed up, huh?” she asked.

“Have you been fucking listening, Four-Eyes?” I really did get even more impatient when intoxicated.

“What’s his name?” she prompted softly, and even in my altered state, I understood that she was trying to apologize for getting caught up in research again.

I sighed, and let the name the plagued my dreams and fantasies fall heavy from my tongue.

“Eren.”

 

That night had beleaguered my life ever since it happened. Every time I saw Hanji it was “How’s it going with Eren? When do we get to meet Eren? Tell me more about Eren. Eren, Eren, Eren, Eren.” It drove me fucking nuts, and the worst part was I didn’t exactly discourage her. I’d let her pour me a couple of drinks and then I’d be spilling my fucking guts again. And, of course, Four-Eyes couldn’t keep her mouth shut, so soon all our other friends were in on it, too.

And though I’d never say this to anyone’s face, I was actually kind of glad, despite how annoying the pestering was. They all were extremely supportive. I had lived most of my life being put down for the fact that I didn’t see love in terms of gender. It pissed me off because I didn’t judge _anybody_ for their choices. They could go hump a tree for all I cared. Some people could only be attracted to one gender, and that was fine. I’d just never understood attraction as something that had to do with whatever shitty chromosomes you had. It didn’t matter what people had physically, it was about who they were. Which was why I _did_ have a slight preference for men. They were just easier to get along with. Women generally seemed to be more social, and that was one thing I was not. But there were men who were overly chatty, too. In the end, the only thing that mattered was the individual. I was grateful that I had finally found people who embraced my way of thinking, even if they didn’t all have the broad attraction spectrum that I did.

It was because of that support that Hanji had finally convinced me to mention her bar to Arlert, who was all too happy to invite me out with his friends. One of said friends being Eren, naturally. I didn’t know why I finally went along with it. Maybe I was just getting tired of the status quo. I had never been one to sit on my ass in the past; I was one who took decisive action. Eren screwed with my natural disposition. I did things that I’d never done before for him, like purposely dress in a way I thought might press his buttons. He’d been acting weird lately in a way that made me wonder, and I figured showing off my form would be a good way to fuck with him. I engaged in my usual teasing and bought him drinks. The latter may have been a bad decision, but something about the brat in that green sweater that went with his eyes had me pulling out my wallet before I knew what I was doing. I even let Hanji interact with him, which had almost been a huge mistake, but it turned out alright. Though I had to put up with even _more_ shit from Hanji as a result.

 

“He is sooo cute, Levi! You weren’t kidding!” she gushed. “I can see why he’s captured your interest. He interests me, too!” I shot her a predatory glare and she amended, “Not in the same way as you, of course! I mean for my research! Just wait! I’ll have him figured out in no time. I can have him eating out of your palm! Though from what I’ve already observed, you don’t need much help…”

“You are not using him for your research, Hanji. And he’s probably still on the rebound from that shitty pony he was riding,” I muttered darkly.

“Oh, the one who was picking a fight with you? Yes, I can see the resemblance. He was another one I’d like to study. He didn’t seem compatible with Eren at all. _You_ on the other hand—”

“Hanji, would you shut the fuck up already?” I sighed. “I don’t want to think about this anymore. Getting involved with the brat is a bad idea, and him staring at my ass basically means nothing. _Everyone_ stares at my ass.” It wasn’t arrogance; it was fact.

“Well, can you blame them?” Hanji interjected.

I ignored her and continued. “The kid’s been acting weird, but that doesn’t mean anything. Just leave it be. I shouldn’t have let him come.”

 

I decided after that to put some distance between us, but no matter what one decides, you never know what life is going to throw at you.

 

“Brat?” I was honestly shocked to see him striding through the middle of Trost Supplies. He froze, turning to look at me.

“Uh, hey Levi.” Why was this kid being so fucking awkward? From the beginning of that night at the bar he’d been acting off. Wouldn’t flip me his usual shit. I was concerned he’d finally picked up on my feelings after everything Hanji had spewed and my stupid decision to pay for all of his drinks and was now uncomfortable with me. The thought made me feel slightly sick.

“You work here.”

“Y-Yeah…” I ignored the way the sandwich I’d just eaten was no longer sitting right with me and kept up the conversation. I really was surprised to see him here. Petra talked about the sweet boy they’d hired all the time, but not for one second did it ever occur to me that it could be Eren. He asked about me knowing Petra, and I was about to answer him, but before I could the shit was suddenly screaming about how he should have put that together and instantly I knew. There were a whole slew of office assistants who didn’t know how to keep their damn mouths shut. I didn’t blame Armin at all for the breech in privacy. It wasn’t really his fault the information had been leaked in the first place, and like Petra told Eren, it wasn’t a secret anyways. I still cared for Petra deeply. Loved her, even. But we just weren’t right for one another. We loved each other, but it was more platonic than romantic. Well, at least it was on my end. I was pretty sure she was over me now—I’d noticed her and Oluo getting closer—but her feelings had definitely carried more of a romantic edge than mine did. Being with her was nice, but the passion died out quickly. Something just didn’t click the way it should’ve, but I would always have a special place for her in my heart.

The brat shuffled off after his outburst, clearly embarrassed. I figured I’d give him a minute to cool off before going after him, and turned back to Petra.

“ _He’s_ the one?!” she hissed, her eyes wide. I rolled mine, already exasperated.

“Yeah.”

“ _Levi!”_ her whisper was filled with indignation.

“What?” I asked, keeping any emotion from my voice. I had no idea what her problem was.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was Eren?” she actually seemed outraged, which was outrageous itself.

“Did you not hear anything that I just said? I had no clue you worked with him. You never gave me a name, so how was I supposed to know?” I knew I should tame the irritation coloring my words, but at the moment I really didn’t give a damn. I just wanted to go home, take a shower, and finish my notes for the marketing meeting I had tomorrow morning.

“How could you not know where he works?” she exclaimed as loudly as she could while trying to keep her voice down.

“I never asked.” I said flatly.

“If you don’t even know where he works, what _do_ you know about him?” Her question took me aback. What _did_ I know about Eren? He liked way too sweet coffee, his cooking skills weren’t higher than a five-year-old’s, he was clumsy, and he said the stupidest fucking things that somehow always made me smile. I knew he had an adopted sister, that his mother had passed away some years ago, and his father was estranged. He got fired from his last job. He wasn’t big on reading, but dutifully read every book Armin wrote, published or not, as well as those he highly recommended. Was there anything else? Now that I listed it all off in my head, I realized how pathetic my knowledge of him was. Here I was, pining away after him, but I never had even bothered to find out when his fucking birthday was. I just assumed it was somewhere in the vicinity of late March/early April. Did I really know so little?

“Fuck.” Petra scowled at my language, but I didn’t pay her any mind. She knew no amount of complaining would get me to change my ways. I scowled at some dust in the crease where the wall met the floor. That shower was sounding better every second. “I’m leaving.” I announced.

“What?” she pouted. “But you just got here!”

“You see me all the time.”

“Once every three months is not ‘all the time,’” she groused.

“Then call me. I can make some time in my schedule if you just give me some warning. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to leave before I become so contaminated by this place I have to peel a layer of skin off. You’re lucky I come to this shithole at all.” For some reason Petra’s expression softened into a smile.

“You’re just are trying to blow me off so you can talk to him, aren’t you?” I tsked and turned to exit her office and make the short journey to the front of the brat’s desk. Which was a nightmare. I raised an eyebrow as I surveyed the mess. If he were under me, this would be fucking unacceptable.

When the brat looked up, his cheeks instantly grew dark. I wasn’t sure if his recent inclination to blush any time he saw me was a good or bad sign, but I’d be lying if I claimed it didn’t make me a little hot myself. It was too easy to imagine those flushed cheeks in a different setting. Still, I couldn’t decide what his behavior meant. I was used to the brash, irritable, oblivious Eren, but I didn't get to see bashful too often. I couldn't say I found it disagreeable, but it was odd, and I couldn’t stop a small part of my mind from worrying about it.

"So, brat, you going to manage to not get your ass fired this time?" The shift in Eren was instantaneous. His shoulders tensed, he sat up. He looked genuinely angry.

"Fuck off, Levi," he spat.

 _Oo. Touched a nerve with that one_.

Reflecting, I couldn't actually remember the story behind why he'd gotten fired. _Did I ever find out?_ I mustn't have because if it upset Eren this much, I'd be sure to remember.

"Didn't realize it was a touchy subject." I said quietly. He seemed to slacken, perhaps realizing that I had no fucking clue why he was so upset. The timid aura seemed to wrap over him again and he shifted his gaze out the window.

"Are you coming out with us this weekend?" _Damn, he sounds hopeful._ My heart gave a little stutter, but I refused to acknowledge it.

"I can't, brat. Some of us don't get to slack off every weekend like you."

"You work on the weekends?" He seemed surprised. I guess Eren didn’t know that much about me, either.

"Yeah.” I told him. “It's shit sometimes, but if I'm not caught up on my reading or paperwork, the deadlines aren't going to magically move themselves back."

This seemed to perplex him further. "But you're a managing editor. Doesn't that mean you can change the deadlines?"

"I could. But there's a reason I've been as successful as I am. It's because I get things done. Unlike some brat I know,” I just couldn’t resist toying with him. Maybe his weird behavior was a bad sign, but he was just too damn fun to tease when he got worked up so easily. Shit, I needed to release some tension somewhere, and since I couldn’t fuck him, teasing was as close as I could get. He didn’t disappoint, his cheeks flushing to a deeper shade of pink. I found myself having one of those urges again. Yes, I definitely needed to be in the shower as soon as possible.

_Shit. This brat… blushing like a damn school girl. Fucking adorable. I really need to get out of here before I do something I'll regret._

It threw me off when I told him to clean the place and he asked me how long he had. I honestly didn’t expect him to take me seriously. The fact that he had gave me some perverse kind of pleasure. I told him a week, even though I wasn’t sure I could actually make it back here in a week. The end of the year was always extra busy and I frequently found myself putting in more time than usual. I had only decided to stop by today because I left the office early to finish the rest of my work in the comfort of my own home. It wasn’t that often I got to do that. As a managing editor, and one of the senior employees, I usually had to be around to deal with whatever shit newer and lower-ranked employees needed help on. The ability to escape today had been an unexpected miracle. Even if I couldn’t get back here soon, it wasn’t like I wouldn’t see him. I’d likely be seeing him the next day.

 

And see him I did.

 

"You talking about the Gala?" Eren questioned as he popped up next to Armin.

  _Really, brat? What else would we be talking about?_ I bit back my sarcasm and instead replied with a short, "Yes." Then curiosity, and maybe the tiniest bit of hope sparked in me. "Speaking of which, are you coming this year, shitty brat?"

A jumble of "yes" and "no" met my ears as the two kids in front of me supplied perfectly opposite answers. I cocked an eyebrow and waited for someone to clarify. Eren looked confused, but Armin met my eyes and firmly stated, "He's going."

Now Eren was looking pissed. "Since when?" he all but demanded, fixing Armin with a look that I almost laughed at. The brat got worked up so easily I had trouble taking his temper seriously sometimes. He was like a hissing kitten. His intent was grave, but he was so cute and harmless I was more inclined to chortle than hiss back. I let myself lose track of what they were saying to each other and allowed my eyes to wander over Eren's form, seeing the sculpt of his arms peeking out from underneath his t-shirt now that his jacket was removed. They had just enough definition to be noticeable. My hands twitched slightly, fingers itching to run along those coils of muscle.

  _Maybe not so harmless_ , I mused, gaze trailing over his pectorals. That shirt was definitely a hindrance to my appreciation of them. It was too loose.

_He'd be much better off without it._

As soon as the thought crossed my mind I realized I needed to leave. My thoughts were getting far too bold, and while I was typically a master of my body, I did not trust myself to remain in control with such thoughts running through my head. My pants were already just the slightest bit tighter than they should have been, which was not at all. I tuned back in to the conversation they were having just in time to hear the second half of something Eren was saying.

“…being so insistent on this, Armin." They were still arguing, apparently. 

"Well, while I'd love to watch you two girls bicker for the rest of the evening, I actually want to go home before midnight. Armin, you can just text me to let me know if you're going to be bringing this idiot or not." I turned around to get my coat, feeling self-conscious despite the fact that I was nowhere near hard enough to be noticeable. I would still feel better once my long coat was wrapped around me. Once it was secured, I turned back around, and Eren cleared his throat.

"I'll go," he said.

I raised a brow at him.

 _What the hell was with the sudden change? He's looking shy again._ I felt another small pulse of desire.

_Dammit! Why is Eren being demure such a fucking turn on? What is with this brat? What did Arlert do to him while my back was turned?_

I didn't ask any of these aloud, however, simply letting them know I'd inform the planners before getting myself out the door as fast as could be done without arousing suspicion.

Something stopped me from getting in my car right away, though, and I listened to it. Listening to my intuition rarely failed me. I glanced around quickly before pressing an ear to the door.

"What the fuck, Armin?"I heard Eren's irritated voice, muffled by the door, "Why didn't you warn me?"

Armin began a reply, but his voice was much softer and more difficult to make out. "Sorry… totally forgot… brought… just now. But… whole lot less awkward... rolled…”I frowned, wishing he wouldn't speak so damn softly, even when irked. 

Eren's voice was still clear as a bell. "Armin, I don't think you realize how excruciatingly painful it was for me last year." I could understand that feeling. The brat might have been the only tolerable thing about the Gala last year. If I didn't get piss drunk by the end of the night every year I was certain I wouldn't survive it.  I was glad Eren would be there again. Maybe I could even steal some alone time with him, as bad of an idea as I knew that was.

"Yeah… weren't single last year," I actually managed to catch Armin say. That made my heart beat a little quicker. Armin was sharp. What was he implying by that? "You were oblivious ..." After than Armin's voice trailed off and I heard nothing. After a moment I thought I heard Eren speak again, but his voice was nothing more than a jumbled vibration against the door. I couldn't make out any of the words. They must have moved farther into the apartment.

Slowly, reluctantly, I went to get in my car and slumped in the seat. My chest felt airy and light with hope, even as the rock of how totally and utterly fucked I was sank in my gut.

“Shit.” I thumped my forehead against the steering wheel.

 

I didn’t see Eren in the weeks leading up to the Gala. After overhearing the parts of the conversation I had, I really didn’t want to. I couldn’t decide what frightened me more—if it meant what I thought it did, or if it didn’t. I didn’t want to deal with emotional shit like that. I had other things to do, and Armin was on track with the plan leading up to the publishing date we had set.

Of course, I couldn’t avoid him forever. Time only ever moved forward, and before I was sure I was ready, I was at the Gala.

 

Seeing him hadn’t been as bad as I had been making it in my mind. I knew better than to psych myself out. I was pissed at myself for letting my thoughts get so out of hand. I knew better than most that half of any battle was one’s perception of things. I made up my mind to ignore all the insecurities that had somehow seeped into my mind and just do what I wanted like I didn’t give a fuck. That was what I did in any circumstance that didn’t include Eren. Why should that brat be so special?

_Well, maybe because he is._

That was the only way I could justify me ordering his favorite drink and shoving it to his chest. I watched him as he gawked at the cup like he didn’t understand what it was doing there. It was almost cute, but I wasn’t going to fucking stand there all night holding a glass to his chest.

“You going to take it or just stare at it, brat? It’s a rum and coke. That’s what you like, right?”

He looked up at me with awed eyes. My gazed flickered down to his Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard. _Shit. There it is again. That feeling. What the hell am I doing?_ He finally brought a hand up to take the glass from me and I had to consciously put effort into keeping my breathing even as his warm fingers traced along mine as he got his grip on the glass.

“Thank you,” he whispered so quietly I never would have understood him if I hadn’t been expecting it. The kid looked so awkward and out of place it would have been comical had I not felt so bad for him. He took a drink from the glass and looked around at the people gathered in the vicinity. I just looked at him. He looked really fucking good. I had some… issues when it came to sex—it was too messy, too dirty… too much of a lot of things I found unpleasant, though under the right circumstances, I _could_ enjoy it. Fantasizing was actually a lot easier than getting an understanding partner who would work with my quirks. Right now, though, with Eren in that button up and those slacks, I really believed I could shove aside my compulsive tendencies long enough to make love to him right there on the floor. Fuck the guests. I had no problem giving a show.

 _And then Erwin would fire my ass_. Best friend or not, some things just weren’t acceptable. I settled for second best.

“Hey, Eren,” I called his name to make sure I had his full attention. Fuck. Those huge-ass green eyes and light flush on his cheeks were fucking me up. I was never this nice to people. _But why am I even surprised anymore? This brat’s been fucking me up since day one._ “Come with me to get some food. I need someone to make me look busy so these rich pigs stop trying to talk to me.”

Having Eren by my side made the Gala considerably more pleasant than it usually was. Even when he started wandering around with Armin, I didn’t mind. Having him close by somehow made dealing with all of the idiots who showed up to the Brag-Fest more tolerable.

And then there was the walk home. I hadn’t really been expecting anything. It was true that I had offered him a ride home because I thought it might create the opportunity for something to happen, but I was pleasantly surprised when he said he wanted to know me. It was actually fucking relieving, because it confirmed that I hadn’t freaked him out too badly yet. I hadn’t really intended to tell him anything about my past—mostly because it was messed up shit that ordinary people really didn’t want to hear—but Eren Yeager had never been ordinary. Not to me, at least. And when he stood there, wearing my suit jacket and looking at me with those liquid emerald eyes full of hesitance, interest, and concern, I knew he really wanted to know, and he wouldn’t think less of me for it.

So I told him. I didn’t really go into detail. That was too much, yet. The basics would answer his question well enough, and if I was going to get closer to him, it was something he would have to eventually know. It was an important part of who I was, and Erwin was an equally significant person. I couldn’t believe what the brat called him. When I had been talking to Erwin before I left, he told me he thought the jealousy radiating off the kid was amusing, but I was hesitant to interpret his behavior as envy until he asked that question. And even though it was clear the brat was hoping for me to say 'yes' when he asked me to come with them to Rosa's next weekend, it wasn’t until he was leaning in to kiss me that I realized just how much our relationship had already changed. Suddenly it was painfully clear to me that those glances and blushes had meaning. None of it had been him being uncomfortable with my feelings—he had been dealing with his own.

I couldn’t have moved away from him for the life of me in that moment. I wanted that kiss. I had been waiting for it.

And then a _fucking train_ passed by and nearly made the brat piss himself.

That was okay, though. I contemplated silently as I drove Eren home. I needed a little time to absorb everything that had just happened. I had to consider what I wanted to do next, besides him.

I let him keep my jacket when he got out of the car. I was pretty sure he’d forgotten it was still draped over his shoulders, and something about the look of it on him pleased me too much to ask for it back. My mind was already a few days ahead, mentally making lists of things I needed to accomplish in order to free up a weekend night so I could spend it at Rosa’s.

My mind was unusually jumbled, my body thrumming with an energy I had long forgotten, and my vision of the future was the most unclear it had been in a couple of decades.

 

A mere year and a half ago I had thought I’d never undergo any of those fucking dumb feelings again. But life doesn’t always go the way you think it will.

And sometimes life drops an Eren in your lap. Or has one threaten you with a knife.

Same thing.

It didn’t matter how the brat showed up, though. It could have been in a hair salon, library, battlefield—anywhere.

Because no matter when or where I saw him, that feeling was there.

I was beginning to fear it would always be there. I knew I needed to do something about it.

 _This weekend._ I decided. _This ends… or begins… this weekend._

**Author's Note:**

> Your comments are always welcome! And please, PLEASE tell me if you see any typos. Seriously. In the last chapter of STTOFTB I freakin' changed the name of the bar without noticing and nobody told me! *embarrassed* I'd much rather be told so I can change it before MORE people read my errors.
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3
> 
> Oh, and I have a tumblr: Resmiranda13 -- You can message me or something. Or not. ;)


End file.
